


Not Unexpected

by Cyn



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyn/pseuds/Cyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moving in with Homura changes everything. Except not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Suzume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzume/gifts).



It isn't unexpected, the two of them moving in together, but somehow Madoka feels like it should be. Moving in seemed to just happen; she and Homura passed the apartment with the "for rent" sign in the window, inquired into it without discussing it, and agreed silently that it was the best place for them. 

"Well, Madoka, I hope you'll be happy here." Junko places a hand on her daughter's shoulder, making Madoka jump; she hadn't heard her mother walk in and set down the last box. "You know you're always welcome at home."

Not even her parents were surprised. 

Madoka nods, looking up at her mother. "Thank you, Mama," she says, and turns to hug her mother. 

There's something of a farewell in her gesture and Junko stiffens for a moment, before wrapping her arms around the smaller girl and hugging her close. Watching your oldest child move out is something unexpected; she's happy for Madoka, but the happiness is tinged with something bittersweet. 

There's not much else she can do, because Junko realizes that unpacking will have to be left to the girls, and all of the boxes Madoka moved over are in the proper rooms. It takes her a moment, but she lets go of Madoka and steps back, tugging at the ribbons in her hair. "You're growing up, Madoka, these pigtails will have to go soon." Her tone is teasing, but like the happines, it too is tinged with a bittersweetness that Junko doesn't reflect too much on.

"Mama," Madoka says, laughing and ducking her head, fixing the ribbons. "I like my pigtails."

Somehow it makes Junko feel a little better, knowing some things haven't changed and aren't likely to change. She opens her mouth to say something along those lines, but the door opens and Homura struggles in, trying to balance two boxes, and it distracts both of them. Homura has very few other boxes to move in, and it takes the three of them only a little longer to move everything inside, the boxes scattered around the apartment. 

"Good luck unpacking, girls," Junko says, waving at them as she slips out the door, once they are finished moving everything in. There's nothing more she can do for the moment; the two of them are on their own and it won't help if she is around while they settle in. 

-

It takes little time for them to unpack, since they have little to worry about. Dishes, enough for the two of them and a few extra plates and forks for the days when everyone comes to visit; linens, towels, soap and shampoo and makeup and finally the personal touches - Madoka throws her stuffed animal collection on the bed, puts photos up everywhere, and Homura sets up her computer in the corner of the living room. 

It's quiet, between them, relaxed and comfortable; Homura reaches out and touches Madoka every now and then, offers her a shy smile, and Madoka will throw her arms around Homura at some random moment. It's a comfort, a reassurance, that they are both there, solid and real and breathing. 

The bed, only one in the apartment, is made and waiting for them later, and Madoka flops down on the sofa in the living room, stretching out on her stomach with her chin propped on her hands so she can watch Homura, seated at the computer. 

"We need to pick up curtains," Madoka comments; outside, the sun is setting, shedding rays of light across the room. The street is quiet, with few people walking about and the occasional car driving past, but curtains are important, no matter what.

"Tomorrow," Homura says. "Before everyone descends on us." 

Madoka smiles, crossing her arms and resting her head on them. Sayaka and Kyoko and Mami wanted to come over earlier, help them move and unpack and settle in and celebrate the move, but neither of them wanted to have everyone over their first night in the apartment. 

She doesn't hear Homura move until she feels the other girl's hands in her hair, a gentle touch that makes her lift her head and then Homura is sitting down next to her, right where Madoka was resting her head. 

Homura's lap makes a better pillow than her arms. 

"Thank you." Madoka's face is buried in Homura's lap and she only whispers the words, but Homura relaxes a little and Madoka knows she heard. There's rarely been a need for words between them, since the fight all those years ago, and Madoka forgets that words do have power, have the ability to comfort. 

Homura's fingers are deft, undoing the ribbons in her hair and brushing out the strands, and Madoka keeps talking. "Thank you," she says again, "for saving me all those years. And for moving in with me now."

It's rare to hear Homura laugh, the ability pushed down so long ago, and Madoka treasures it every time she hears it. That night, with Homura's hands in her hair, it sends a shiver down her spine - not because it terrifies her, but because of a feeling she can't describe. "I was the one who convinced you to move out," Homura says, and tightens her fingers in Madoka's hair, tugging slightly so Madoka has to look up. "I should be thanking you."

Madoka blinks at her, slightly confused, and opens her mouth to protest that - they never discussed moving, it was a mutual decision, she is sure of it. But whatever protest she was going to voice dies on her lips, because Homura is leaning down and capturing her breath with a kiss. Gentle at first, soft and lingering, with an edge of hunger beneath it and Madoka shivers again. 

Homura prefers action, Madoka knows, and being around the other girl has pushed Madoka into growing, into making decisions and taking action, into trusting - if not her instincts, then Homura. And so Madoka opens her mouth beneath Homura's and returns the kiss, with everything she feels. Her thank you is written on her lips, her trust imprinted on the shy touch of her tongue against Homura's, her love overlaying all of it.

They are in an awkward position, Madoka stretched out on the couch and Homura sitting over her, and there's a weird twinge in Madoka's back at the way she is reaching up, but none of it matters because Homura's lips are still on hers and it isn't until they are both desperate for air that they break apart, and even then Homura doesn't move far, instead pressing small, light kisses against Madoka's lips. 

"Homura-chan," Madoka begins, and can feel Homura's lips curl into a smile against hers. 

"You can drop the 'chan', Madoka."

Adding the honorific is so commonplace for Madoka that she didn't even realize she was doing it and Homura's words make her laugh. "Homura," she says, and shifts on the couch so she is sitting in Homura's lap, able to freely run her hands through the other girl's hair. Homura's hair slides through her fingers, dark against her pale skin and it fascinates her for a moment, until she feels Homura's lips against hers again. That is even more of a distraction than her hair, and Madoka loses herself in their kisses.

It isn't until a car backfires on the street that they are returned to themselves, both girls pulling away with reluctance. Madoka glances at the window, feeling heat spread over her cheeks. 

"The curtains." 

"They can still wait until the morning." Homura wiggles out of Madoka's grasp and stands up, her hands reaching for Madoka's. "The window in the bedroom faces into the garden."

-

Later, when Homura is asleep, curled around Madoka, their legs tangled until Madoka isn't sure where she begins and Homura ends, Madoka stares out at the night sky. There's no moon, only starlight pouring into their room. 

Their room. The words make her smile. She hadn't realized, until she was actually in bed with Homura and gasping with desire beneath her fingers, what having only one bed meant. And none of it, even this, Homura's heart beating a steady rhythm beneath her ears, surprises her any.

**Author's Note:**

> Suzume, I hope you enjoy! I tried to do something cute and fluffy and domestic for the two girls. Happy Valentine's Day!


End file.
